


Brothers and Sisters (And the Memories They Leave)

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Memories, Families of Choice, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Memories, Protective Eliot Spencer, Protective Siblings, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of The Underground Job, Eliot struggles with the realization that he has a living nephew - the son of his estranged youngest brother who died in the accident referenced in the episode.  Parker finds herself drawn to Eliot, given her own conflicted feelings over siblings and the things that happen to them outside of anyone's control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers and Sisters (And the Memories They Leave)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musingmidge77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingmidge77/gifts).



> I'm playing a bit with a personal headcanon here - please forgive me. The premise is that the kid Cory who Eliot befriends during The Underground Job is the son of Eliot's estranged youngest brother.
> 
> And yes, the twin brother who is a Los Angeles attorney is exactly who you probably think it is...
> 
> Anyway, thank you for playing with us!

Eliot had a brother. And a nephew. Parker spent the trip back to Boston huddled in on herself, trying to decide how she felt about that, and about the fact that it was apparently supposed to be a secret, if she’d understood the conversation she’d overheard taking place between Nate and Eliot.

“Are you okay, Parker?” Sophie leaned across and touched her gently on the arm.

 _I have a brother. Had a brother._ There was suddenly too much in her head that she wanted to talk about, and all of it secret. “Fine,” she said instead. “Just tired.”

She was pretty sure Sophie didn’t believe her, but the good thing about Sophie was that she didn’t push. Well, unless you were Nate. Then she pushed a _lot_. But since Nate was a thing Parker didn’t ever plan on being, that distinction was something she didn’t really need to worry about.

Hardison and Nate both asked if she was planning on going home when the team finally returned to Boston. Hardison wanted to spend time with her – Nate wanted to know if there was a chance she’d be walking around the offices naked when he got up in the morning. (The fact that Hardison might want to know the same thing but for different reasons made Parker smile. She really liked having somebody like Hardison in her life – somebody who “like-liked” her.)

Parker told them both that she had things to do and neither of them questioned what she said, although Hardison did take the time to tell her again that she was welcome to stop by his place any time she felt like it.

Eliot said little throughout all of it, and if he noticed Parker tailing him when he finally started the eight and a half block walk to his apartment, he didn’t call her out. 

She didn’t know how she felt about that.  
***********************************  
The business card Nate gave him was burning a hole in Eliot’s pocket. He had a nephew; a good kid by all accounts. Somebody who could definitely benefit from what little Eliot was able to offer him, so long as he played his cards right.

 _”It has to be legit. Above board. I owe Pat that much.”_ And Nate had understood. Eliot was grateful for that. He knew Hardison could take care of setting up anything Eliot wanted to do for Cory faster (and probably better) than any legitimate financial advisor, but Eliot’s youngest brother had always lived in a very black and white world. Right and wrong had never been confusing concepts for Patrick. _Unlike the rest of us,_ he thought, chuckling bitterly as he fit his key into the lock.

A soft sound nearby caught his attention. _She’s slipping,_ he thought, pausing only a fraction of a second to identify Parker’s very distinctive footfall. _Or she wants me to know she’s there._ Without turning to acknowledge her directly he asked, “Are you hungry? I can probably throw together some of that spaghetti dish you said you liked.” (That “spaghetti dish” was actually fettuccine Alfredo, but Eliot had learned that when dealing with Parker accuracy oftentimes worked against you.)

“I didn’t know if you wanted company or not.” And just like that she was standing ten feet away from him, as if she’d been that easy to spot all along.

“You’re not company.” Eliot opened the door and gestured inside with a quick jerk of his head. “Come on.”

There was something weirdly comforting about having Parker around when his mood turned thoughtful like this, Eliot realized. He went through his normal ritual of securing the apartment, then ushered the two of them into the kitchen where he set Parker hunting ingredients. It was quiet, steadying work – she took direction well, and asked surprisingly insightful questions about the food and his process.

He was putting the finishing touches on the cream sauce, feeling more balanced than he’d expected to feel given everything that had happened, when she asked, “Did your brother die too?”

Eliot froze. It was only for a second – maybe two – but in that brief span of time it took nearly everything he had not to lash out at the thief. _Mine,_ something in his heart growled, deep and primal and protective. It was an irrational response and he knew it, but that didn’t make the feeling any less real. “I had three brothers Parker,” he said finally, once he could trust himself to speak. “And two sisters. Only one of them is still alive.” His twin brother was an attorney in Los Angeles, and only supported the theory that Spencer blood did better in the gray and black areas of the whole good-bad spectrum.

They had to pause then to take care of the noodles; once the cooked pasta had been rinsed and poured out into the sauce and Eliot was tossing the mixture Parker asked, “How did they die?”

“The girls died from the flu. We were too poor to afford a doctor, and by the time my parents realized how bad it was, it was too late.” He exhaled softly, trying not to let the emotion he always felt for his sisters cloud the conversation. It didn’t hurt, sharing this piece of his life with Parker, but if he cried Eliot knew he would be angry with himself. That combination would likely confuse and upset Parker, and any good either of them could get from this would be lost.

“My brother Jeremiah overdosed on drugs when he was about eighteen. And my brother Patrick was one of the miners killed in that explosion we just investigated.”

Understanding lit Parker’s expression. “That kid Cory really was your nephew, then?’

Gesturing for her to get plates and utensils, Eliot nodded. “I didn’t tell him though,” he added, portioning out the food. “He’s got a good life for himself – he doesn’t need me complicating things.”  
*****************************************  
There was something important going on here. Parker could feel it like a weight in her gut – the same feeling she got when she leapt off a roof knowing the math was right and she would stick the landing. Eliot was sharing something he didn’t usually talk about, and he was sharing it with her. “I can’t picture you with sisters,” she said. “Or brothers, really. I mean, I know about you having a twin brother of course, but that’s like there being another you out there.”

Eliot smiled as he dished up the spaghetti. Parker wasn’t sure how to react at first, then she decided it was one of his okay smiles – the kind he saved for the team, not the kind he showed people before he punched them. “Sit – we don’t want this to get cold.” He paused, clearly remembering something. “I liked having sisters. Nancy was in between Jer and Pat age-wise, and she was fearless. Anything they tried, she wanted to do it too, and more often than not ended up doing it better.”

Parker thought about her brother, and how Jacob had always wanted her to teach him new things. How to throw a ball, how to climb the tallest tree, _how to ride a bike…_ “Did you feel like it was your fault when she died?” she asked, suddenly unable to look at him with her own memories making everything awful.

He was quiet long enough that she risked looking up at him again. “Eat your spaghetti, Parker.” His voice was firm, but his expression was kind. When she’d chewed and swallowed three bites he settled back in his chair. “That thing you feel when you think about your brother – I know what it is. I feel it too when I think about all my brothers and sisters.”

Parker shivered, realizing what it meant that Eliot could say “all”, when she’d only lost the one brother. Eliot didn’t seem to have realized he said anything significant though, because he went on without really missing a beat. “It’s not guilt though. At least it shouldn’t be, because your brother’s death wasn’t your fault, any more than me being and Lindsey being born first caused our brothers and sisters to die.”

It all made sense, but it didn’t make the feeling in her stomach go away. “It still hurts,” she said finally, pushing the last of her noodles around the bowl.

“Yes,” Eliot said. “Until one day it doesn’t.”

That confused her. “When does that happen?”

Eliot smiled at her, and it was a smile she’d never seen before – sad, but hopeful. “I’ll let you know.”


End file.
